Halloween is a great holiday. You get to — nay, are ENCOURAGED to — play dress-up, and you can gorge yourself on sugar. And that’s pretty much how kinky folks celebrate Halloween, too. Almost everyone dressed up to one degree or another; only A. and T. were in full fetish wear, while everyone else was in some approximation of a Halloween costume (non-fetish). And there was a mountain of sugary snacks, which was just a bonus.

M. asked me if I wanted to play with the violet wand, and we set things up, discussing the usual: sitting/lying down/standing; tied up/not tied up; fully clothed/partially clothed/totally nekkid, etc. (For the record: lying face down; tied to table with velcro restraints and rope; took my dress off but kept bra, panties, fishnets on.)

And this is the point at which EVERYONE — and I mean literally everyone who was at the party — decided to come over and watch. And all I could do was laugh. But then, B. decided it was time to judge the costumes, as there were prizes. That actually made people disperse, and so I didn’t have the entire party watching M. zapping me in various places with the violet wand, and my appropriate shrieking and yelping. (Having my legs tied down and not being able to kick in reaction to the violet wand is REALLY annoying and evil.)

And then it occurred to me that I really wasn’t enjoying the electric play as much as I usually do, and that what I really wanted was a good hard flogging. I just wanted some pain. I wanted to be hurt. And I’ve never wanted that before. But still, I asked M. if we could switch to flogging, and he said “I’m happy to beat your ass any time.” I said to M., “Really REALLY hard, please.”

What I forgot about was the cathartic effect of having the hell beaten out of you. By the time he was finished, my ass was red and sore, as was my upper back, and I actually felt….pretty good. Of course, a lot of the feeling good comes not from the catharsis of a good beating, but from the endorphin rush after a good beating. I felt buzzed when we were done. Drunk, almost. I changed my clothes, got a huge glass of water, and wandered out to talk to people, whereupon I realized that I was totally fuzzyheaded and stupid from endorphins. Seriously, I couldn’t think of the right words for things, and was really slow to respond when people talked to me, and I was suddenly very very tired.

K. made me stay around for at least 20 minutes before I could drive home. (Kind of like waiting after donating blood!) But she was right — I would have been WAY too stupidheaded to drive right away. As it was, driving home I was kind of….floaty. But with a sore ass.

I didn’t experience any sub drop the next day, which is a first for me. Normally I do, sometimes really badly. But I was good all day yesterday. A little dopey still, but fully functional and content. I also slept better Saturday night than I have for a long, long time. Which seems to mean that I need to get my ass beaten on a regular basis. Huh.